Spinning
by starryjen
Summary: Neela's thoughts when she's recuperating, a bit of a drabble.  Spoilers season 13 and season 14.1


Disclaimer: I don't own ER. This is just a little drabble I wrote a while ago but never finished, I tidied off the ending today, though lost my favourite line it, I thought I'd post it all the same. Hope you enjoy, reviews as always very welcome.

Edited: date amended (thanks to

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It's the day after you checked out of County and you're sitting in your apartment, the TV's on but you're not paying attention to it. It's a relief to be away from the hospital, you've always thought you liked being there, but 26 days without the option of escape was too much for you. You consider making some tea, but the smallest movement sends aches through your body and the idea of walking that far is not appealing. Your mind hasn't stopped spinning since the wedding, you give a small, ironic laugh - and remember how much your ribs hurt - your mind's been spinning for a lot longer than that. 

You really thought that the spinning was going to stop. It was over with you and Tony, you were going to the dinner alone, and you were going to tell Ray how you felt. But it went wrong before you left home, Tony appeared and it seemed so rude to send him away, especially when you were going to the same place. It was downhill from there on. There was a brief moment, in an abandoned room, where the spinning did stop and you knew that what you were doing was right, and then Hope interrupted.

And the spinning slowly sped back up, especially when you couldn't get in contact with Ray, and then when you found out about his accident it went into overdrive. You lie, the spinning did stop after that, it stopped for 77 hours and 55 minutes, from approximately 4.35pm on May 8 until 7.30pm on May 11, and because of the sedation it took a while to rack back up to full speed. But that probably doesn't count because you were unconscious.

So with the exception of those two moments, when did it last stop spinning, or more importantly when did it start? You've been thinking about this since you woke up - it still spins when you sleep – you've had the benefit of not being able to move, and no one bothering you and you've come to the conclusion that it started spinning 497 days, 7 hours, and 34 minutes ago. The moment Michael asked you to marry him. Life was simpler before that, and spinning was more likely to be induced by tequila or beer, not thoughts and wishes and regrets. You wonder if the spinning would have ever started if you'd said no. You're not sure, what happened would still have happened, but Michael might have been your boyfriend instead of your husband, and that's a relationship that's easier to end; it doesn't come with a commitment of forever attached.

You're desperate for it to stop though; it, and the medication, are addling your brain. Your worst hangover was never as bad as this, not even after tequila shots. But you can't imagine it ending any time soon, if it ever will. You try to imagine the circumstances of it finally happening, what you would have to do to slow the world down again. There's one consistent feature in what you imagine, one person that won't go away however much you try to make them. He's always there in whatever role; as a friend, as a lover, as a partner, as a husband, as a father. Whether you're thinking 1, 5, 15, or 40 years down the line he's still there. And in all of those scenarios, there is no spinning.

But when you think of how you can reach that point it's like your head's been put in a centrifuge, the spinning is unbelievable. In fact the pressure in your mind is so immense that you're thankful to hear Abby enter your apartment. You never imagined that you would be so pleased that she still had a spare key, but you're grateful that she's here. She can't make a cup of tea the proper way, you never managed to instil that skill in her, though you succeeded with Ray, but still anything would be better than nothing. That and you could do with a hand reaching the bathroom; you've been too scared of falling to even consider trying. For maybe 70 milliseconds - the time it takes to blink an eye - you think that this must be similar to what he's going through, but you know it comes no where near, and you can't deal with what that does to the spinning.

She takes one look at you, and hears your requests, and she tells you in no uncertain terms that you should still be in the hospital. But you look at her with your wide, brown eyes, pleading with her not to readmit you, she shakes her head and you know you've won the battle for now. There's no way you're going back, you'd fight them if they tried, you give another small laugh – you realise that it must be time for your meds because the pain is so much worse than before – one breathe in the wrong direction at the moment would floor you, so fighting is not really an option.

She stays a while, and though you were grateful to see her, you're relieved she's gone; there are only two people you want to spend any time with at the moment, yourself, and your best friend. And though you're close to Abby and you care for her deeply, she doesn't fill that role; in fact only one person has ever filled it completely. As the spinning slowly sped up he was the person who could make you laugh, make you cry, the one who held your hair back when you were sick in those brief innocent moments of alcohol induced spinning, the one who you want to share every moment with, if only you'd realised it sooner.

You wonder when you crossed that line, you know when you realised it, sitting drinking cocktails with Lucien and wishing you were at home with Ray, but when did it actually happen? When did you go from being roommates, friends even, to something more? When did going home to him start to mean more to you than hearing from Michael? You've asked yourself the same question for the last 411 days since you realised it was true. Was it one day on the EL when you were working the same shift, or over takeaway and a movie, or the day you thought he looked cute sleeping on the couch? You know there wasn't one specific moment, it was gradual, you can't pin point the exact moment when he went from friend to potential lover.

But you do know the moment that you realised it was much more than that, that there were serious emotions involved. That was the day that Michael's parents visited you at work, and he tried to reassure himself that things between you were okay, and he tried to persuade you that you didn't need to leave. That was the moment you knew you did.

All the spinning thoughts are making your eyes burn, and you think if you just close them for a few minutes the burning will ease. You ease your body back further into the cushions, wincing with each movement, wishing that your meds were working better and taking the pain away as they should. You pull a blanket across you and close your eyes.

Sleep isn't a peaceful place, the spinning takes the form of dreams, and the what ifs of your life play out in Technicolor in front of you. What if you hadn't pushed him away when Michael died, what if you hadn't turned to Tony, what if you'd invited him up after you kissed him, what if you hadn't made him wait, as bad as those ones were, they weren't the ones that you dreaded. What if he hadn't survived, what if he never wanted to see you again, what if you had died without telling him you loved him? These were the thoughts that you shied away from when you were awake, but they make themselves known when you sleep. And that's when you wish your meds included sleeping tablets, but Lucien hadn't been willing to give you those; he said you needed to be aware of the pain in case anything went wrong.

You don't wake until 3.07am, the what ifs had created a dream world for you to inhabit, and you would have given anything to close your eyes and return to it for just a few minutes more. The television is still on, the volume still muted, and you tentatively reach for the remote control, a strange tingling starting in your finger tips and moving slowly up your arm as you move it. You try to pull yourself up a bit more, but there's a stabbing pain in the right side of your back, and you start to realise why Lucien wouldn't let you have sleeping tablets, because this pain is different to before.

You lie there for an hour or so waiting for it to fade, instead its becoming more intense, and it's getting harder to catch your breathe. The spinning is intense as you try to work out what's going on, try to rationalise the pain, but you can't work it out and you're feeling scared that you've missed your chance to make things right, if that's even possible. You hear his voice uttering those words again, the words you longed to hear but not in those circumstances, not with the defeat in his voice, you haven't spoken to him in 26 days, not since 3.20pm on March 17, but you can still hear his voice as clear as if it was yesterday. You wanted to say it back to him, but somehow it didn't seem right, you didn't want him to think you were only saying it out of pity. No, you think, whatever's happening, whatever this is, you have to correct this mess you've caused. You move again, this time more determinedly, ignoring the pains that are shooting everywhere and the pressure in your chest, as you reach for your phone. You don't call County, or Greg or Abby; instead you send a simple message.

A simple message that reads 'I need you to know I love you; I don't know how to stop. I'm sorry for everything. Neela.' Your phone responds 'message sent at 4.23am.'

It takes a few minutes to realise that your breathing has calmed, and it crosses your mind that you've had a panic attack, and the relief floods through you, though you feel slightly foolish that you didn't realise this earlier. You think of another time recently where the spinning had stopped, when your lips touched, with the snow falling outside, when it was just you and him, the world had been still then. You close your eyes, and you swear you can still taste his lips on yours, the feel of his hand in your hair, and you know that that's all you want for the rest of your life. So different to Michael, to Tony, to anyone before, but strangely so right. You don't believe in all that 'completing you' nonsense, but if you're honest he does, he's yang to your yin, your differences balance each other. And you laugh inside; you learnt your lesson earlier, a panic attack was all it had taken for you to declare your love, surely if he'd known he would have locked you both in a confined space a long time ago!


End file.
